


Upon the Losing of His Soul

by CourtneyEllen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anne Bradstreet, Dean goes to Hell, Other, Poetry, season 3 spoilers!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 16:31:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6016612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CourtneyEllen/pseuds/CourtneyEllen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imitation of Anne Bradstreet's poem "Here Follows Some Verses Upon the Burning of Our House"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Upon the Losing of His Soul

**Author's Note:**

> So this is worded heavily like Bradstreet's poem so if you are not accustom to her writing you might want to go check out her poem first before you read mine c;

“Here Follow Some Verses Upon the Losing of His Soul, May 2nd, 2008”

 

 

In obscure night when silence I took

For thy health I did not look

I tensed was with gnarling noise

And anguish shrills of anxious voice.

That ominous sound of “screams” and “screams”

Let no one know is my fear

I, pivoting about, the thud did spy

And to my Mom my thoughts did cry

To brace me in my demise

And not to leave me without my prize.

Then, forthcoming, witness a chase

The Bearer of Death devoured my grace.

And when I took my final breath,

I cursed Her name in my death.

Thy laid my body in a pool of blood

Yea, so it was, so ‘twas flood

It was her own, it was not mine anymore

She rotted my soul down to my core.

She might of all sly as a snake

But yet amply clever to take

When by the living I past

My numbing eyes aside did cast

And here my fate is tied

There was nothing left but my pride

Here is where I gave my life

My reality is I will never have a wife

Now I lay in the sodden ground

There is no one to see my wound

No longer will I laugh

Nor techniques taught on my father’s own behalf

No memories shall ever be told

Nor the hardships of growing old

No delicious pie or refreshing beer

Only screams of terror to hear

In darkness ever shall I lie

Sayonara, mortal spirit.

Then straight I’gin my heart to scold

And did thy being on earth abide?

Didst fix they hope on fool’s errand?

The essence of gilded didst make thy trust?

Ascent thy sentiment above the sky

That mound mists away fly

Thou hast a soul on deep descent

Created by that selfish Gent

With twisted immoral values

Stands permanent thought thy time is out

Though I can safely say that without a doubt

Thy spirit exists within the depths of the pit

A price so vast it is impossible to quit

Yet by Her what once was thine;

There’s pleasure enough, I need no chide;

Farewell, my spirit, farewell my being

She no longer let me hope,

My soul and embodiment lies down the slope.

**Author's Note:**

> So I am sorry if that was the worst thing you read or whatever! Others have told me that they liked it and my teacher said she loved it since no one else wrote about death like I did. Lucky for me she does not watch Supernatural.


End file.
